


Angel On My Shoulder

by tomlinseraph



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, angel!louis, pocket!louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinseraph/pseuds/tomlinseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College life is too much for Harry, and he starts to go astray. Turns out he just needed a small push from the little angel on his shoulder to get back in the right direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel On My Shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> ive just started so im mostly posting snippets and one-shots, can be found on wattpad

The feeling was all too familiar; that which gave him comfort. It blurred reality and sanity but sharpened his energy and senses. It left him with twitches and tremors through his muscles but made his blood pump quickly and smoothly through his veins; loudly pounding in his ears. It sent his stressed mind on a smooth carpet ride away from college and towards relaxation. Everything was pure bliss, the only down side was the aftermath. Once the fine white powder would leave his system his body would crash from the high, plumetting down harder and harder the more of the drug he inhaled. He was currently hung over from the rush and decided to just go home from his friends house since he couldnt afford another gram. He stumbled out into the winter night without even thinking about it.

Harry had no idea where he was, he was just a cold shivering lump wandering the downtown streets of London. It was dark and Harry had a monstrous headache that demanded his attention and distracted him from finding his way around. His dorm room was just a few blocks over from his friends and normally, he didn't have a problem in getting there at night. But tonight, Harry was shaking from both the cold and the drug, the street light hurt his eyes but his senses were still jolted from the high so they were wide open and a bit twitchy. Hugging himself, Harry kept walking, only half paying attention as to where he was going.

After wandering the cold streets for almost an hour, his fragile body couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed at the corner of some building and folded in on himself, hoping to hide and not call attention to himself. Harry was still shaking and at this point, crying, because all he wanted was to go home, not his dorm, not with his friend, he wanted home; with his mother and sister and step-father. He couldn't take the stress anymore, he wished he could be a three-year old that got away with throwing a tantrum every now and then, but he was a nineteen-year old young adult, and that was scary, that was hard. He had been wanting to cry for some time now, cry about the struggle of having to balance school, work, and fun; plus having to manage his money and his time. He came into the year with such high hopes of getting decent grades and maybe falling in love with a nice boy who treated him well, but that had all turned to shit which made Harry turn to drugs and he was just so ashamed of himself and disappointed.

With what little energy he had left, Harry crawled on all fours down the sidewalk to the back of the building, there was a narrow alley where he could dump his body and not be in the way of others. He flopped down on him bum and spread his legs in fornt of him, his back against the wall and head looking to the night sky. Harrys nose began to run but he ignored it, he ignored the cold and the numbed feeling in his nose, lips, and fingers and just sat there with warm tears rolling down his cheeks. He was quiet except for a few whines and sniffles from his crying; this was him giving up.

From the quiet stillness came another set of cries. Harry thought he was hallucinating but it seemed to come right from his left ear. He held his breath a moment to stay quiet, but he still heard them. Curiously, Harry looked down at his shoulder where the noises were coming from and saw what looked like a little angel perched on his shoulder, about the size of Harry's palm, and he was crying. The little angel man wore a fuzzy red sweater with feathery white wings poking out the back and a dulled halo floating delicately above his soft cinnamon fringe. He also wore black jeans and sneakers on his feet, the detail was so clear, it amazed Harry, his hallucinations weren't usually this creative. He looked at the little thing sitting hunched over on his shoulder, its face buried in his sleeves and his hands hidden in them as well. It peeked slightly out from its sweater paws and looked at Harry with sad eyes.

"Oh, Harry!" Its little voice squeaked, surprising him. Its little bottom lip trembled and then began to cry again, this time hiding its face into Harry's curls. He could feel little strands of hairs being tugged on lightly and Harry was a bit dumbfounded by the fact it felt so real, but it couldn't possibly be real.

"Erm, who are you?" He asked it quietly, afraid to scare it away.

"I'm Louis." He said softly right by his ear before pulling back and wiping his eyes. "I'm your conscience."

Harry frowned, "Well Louis, my conscience, why are you crying?" Harry himself had wet cheeks and red, tear-rimmed eyes but he was breath taken by the sight on his shoulder.

"Because you're crying." He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well I'm done crying, see?" Harry wiped his face with his cold bony fingers just to prove his point to the little angel.

Louis picked himself up with his soft wings and floated right in front of Harry with his arms crossed and a disappointed look on his face. Harry had to blink multiple times to make sure he was really there.

"Now Harry, I'm you're conscience, I know when you're lying. You aren't done crying, not inside anyway." He said sadly.

The hidden tears suddenly found their way into Harry's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "Well I'm okay for now." He lied again.

Louis dropped his arms at his sides, "I know you're not Harry! I know you're miserable and you're giving up. I know you want to cry, and its okay to cry sometimes." He said softly. "I know its getting hard and you don't want to do it anymore, but drugs isn't going to make it easier, neither is giving up. Look at yourself, you're dumped in some alley and you were going to let yourself die. I mean...what happened to you Harry?"

Harry's lip trembled and then the real tears started pouring, he hid his face in his knees and let out a pitiful wail. He cried harder than he could ever remember crying. "I don't know!" He yelped through his cries, answering Louis' question, he really doesn't know whats happened to him, he was never like this and always in control, he was always happy. While he continued to sob Louis went up and sat at the top of his head, playing with his hair. He would pat his head and pet his curls, muttering sweet nothings just loud enough for Harry to hear, trying to soothe the crying boy. 

When his wails calmed down some and he was practically all cried out, Louis went back to his shoulder and patted Harry's cheek while he was still sniffling. Louis got up on his tip-toes and grabbed the tip of his wing, reaching over and drying the tears off of Harry's face. It was a soft and gentle touch that made Harry forget to question how this was even happening. He leaned into it and Louis chuckled, kissing the boy on the cheek and mover to the other side to clean those tears too, with his feathery wings. When he finished, Louis settled himself on top of Harry's head, lying his stomach and playing with his hair some more, making tiny braids in it as he talked.

"How you feeling, Haz?"

"A little better."

"Good!" He smiled, "Do you want to go back home now?"

"I cant." Harry's voice cracked a bit.

"And why not?"

"I can only go back to my dorm."

Louis frowned a little bit, forgetting what Harry considered home, he was thinking about what to say next to maybe comfort him, but Harry was quick to speak first.

"If you really are my conscience, how come I've only just seen you now?" He asked weakly.

Louis was quiet for a long moment before responding, "Well you've never really needed my help until now...until you hit rock bottom."

"Oh." Harry sighed.

Louis let go of the braid he was doing and leveled with Harry's face, "You know drugs are wrong Harry, you know you should be focusing on your classes and you now this isn't how you were raised, you know better than this and you deserve better than how you're treating yourself."

Harry nodded, hearing the disappointment in the angels voice, he didn't like it either. He didn't want the same tone coming form his mother or his sister or anyone else he loved. Louis was right, Harry didn't want this for himself anymore, he wanted to straighten up. The first thing to do was make sure he didn't freeze to death outside. "I want to go back but I'm too cold to move and I'm lost." He sighed.

Louis chuckled softly at him and his smirk grew into a happy grin, his dulled halo also lit up as his mood did, "Don't worry, I got that covered." Louis dove down to Harry's breast pocket and slipped in. Harry was about to ask what he was doing, but he felt a gentle tug at his heart and suddenly there was a warmth in his chest that spread through out his body and filled his cheeks with a bit of color. Harry stretched his legs a bit then stood up, feeling dizzy and nauseous, having to lean against the wall for support.

"What was that?" He breathed, amazed as to what got him so warm.

Louis poked his head out of the pocket, "That was pride, Harry. That feeling you get when you do something good? That's me hugging your heart, because I'm proud of you. You're proud of you. For finally committing to picking yourself back up and fixing things."

Harry smiled and nodded, he felt sick as hell but his mental state was much better and for once, he wasn't stressing about everything around him because Louis had been right in telling him he deserved better. By some miracle they made it home, Louis stayed tucked in Harry's pocket and hummed the whole way, Harry could even feel the tiny vibrations that tickled his heart. Once they made it back to Harry's dorm, Harry made a cup of hot chocolate and told Louis to help himself to it while he went and showered. A nice warm shower was just what Harry needed, it cleared his sinuses and he cleaned himself up, having to pull Louis' braids out of his hair. Once he was out and he bundled himself up in a shirt, pajama pants, and socks; he went back in to the kitchen to find Louis bent over and balanced at the edge of the mug on his knees, his wings lightly flapping to pick up some of his weight, and a cookie half dipped in the hot chocolate Harry made him. He was so concentrated on not dropping the cookie he didn't hear Harry.

Harry had a wide grin on his face as he spoke up, "I think I would've already tipped you in if you didn't have such a cute little bum."

Louis' head snapped up and dragged the much-too-big cookie up with him, "You're lucky you didn't." The little angel snapped, taking a nibble of the cookie.

Harry went to make himself his own mug and he giggled, "You're such a cute little pixie."

Louis' eyes widened, "Ex/cuse/ yourself! Do not call me that! I am the little angel on you're shoulder. I am not some Tinker Bell." He sassed before sticking his tongue out at Harry and taking another bite of the cookie.

Harry giggled again, "Fine, but you're still cute."

Louis rolled his eyes and turned his back to Harry. Harry spent a few minuets laughing to himself before he apologized to the angel and they both happily finished their hot chocolate with cookies. The warmth of the drink had Harry getting sleepy, so Louis pushed the cups near the sink, blew away the crumbs on the counter with a flap of his wings, and tugged at Harry's little finger so he could lead him to his bed. Harry tucked himself in and settled down so he could get comfortable on his side with his back to the wall. 

"But where will you sleep?" He slurred out in his tired voice.

Louis kicked his shoes off at the little table next to the bed and wiggled his way into Harry's breast pocket. "I'll sleep right here. Good night you clumsy giant."

"Good night Tinker Bell." Harry felt a small poke at his heart and he drifted off with a smile on his face.

 

The next morning Harry still felt tired, not to mention sick. He checked his breast pocket, only to be disappointed with the emptiness. Last night had felt so real, but he shook his head and told himself it was probably a dream. But dream or no dream, Harry still promised he would straightened up, the drugs were real and so were the tears; so it was his job to fix that. It was ten in the morning by the time Harry crawled out of bed, he cleaned up his dorm and got ready for his afternoon classes. Normally he went stressed and unprepared, but he went along with it slowly and didn't rush himself. He had a quick breakfast and was able to catch his class in time. He sat down, setting his bag down on the floor and pulling out the books he needed. He looked down in front of him and realized he was finally making a change, there was a tug his heart and the warmth in it spread throughout his body, and as much as he would hate to admit it, he knew Louis was proud of him.


End file.
